---

Unable to wake from the mists, we look
From haggard eye to haggard eye to see
How the lie of divine right dragged us down.
How our wings were clipped by concrete,
So Mab could no longer ferry us to dream.

For we know the Poet was right when he promised there was time
For a hundred visions and revisions, for a hundred indecisions,
And yet said time will not stop
Until we join a bitter union of roots and flesh.

For all things decay.
For all things end.

But if we allow the shattered pane of truth
To drown us in defeat, until only our names will remain,
Then we will never know what it is to rise.
Never remember that we were always pure.
That our struggles shine brighter than the glorious weave of starfire.

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